Month: March 2016
Every year, my friend Brandi takes her preteen niece Paige on a trip for spring break, and this year, June and I went along. Last week, the four of us spent four days exploring the Grand Canyon and nearby Antelope Canyon, eating trail mix (the kind with M&Ms in it, the only kind), and feeling a quasi-religious level of gratitude that the flat tire we got while driving between the aforementioned canyons didn’t occur in the desolation of mid-desert but rather in the parking lot of one of only two gas stations along the route.
Somehow, June is now big enough to carry her own backpack. My life passes before my eyes.
Back at home, I find that we have reached, yet again, the time of year when the weather in Seattle feels its most Seattle-ish, the rain’s last hurrah. It’s another early spring, another March, another year that I again listen to the music that makes Seattle feel most Seattle-y, by which I mean Mother Love Bone’s “Crown of Thorns” and Pearl Jam’s “State of Love and Trust,” both from the Cameron Crowe film Singles. I love Singles with the kind of single-minded devotion adolescent boys lavish on Monty Python and the Holy Grail. In my next life, FYI, I will be Bridget Fonda in Singles.
Also, from a similar era, hey, don’t forget about Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You.” Man.
On a wholly different note, Ethan Hawke – who, now that I think about it, made his name in that same era – is a top-notch person. I listened to him on WTF with Marc Maron this morning as I waded through the bills that accumulated in my absence, and I loved what he had to say about acting, art, Richard Linklater’s approach to moviemaking, and the importance (or lack thereof) of plot in storytelling.
A wholly different thing from that, but another top-notch person, our friend Edouardo Jordan, chef-owner of Seattle restaurant Salare, was profiled in a recent issue of Lucky Peach. What he has to say about being black in a professional kitchen is very important, and it’s a great read.
Last but not least, thanks for the very kind things you said about Dino’s.
Be well out there, and happy week.
Yesterday, my mom took June to the aquarium, and Brandon and I spent the day at Dino’s Tomato Pie, hanging photographs and making lists, getting ready to open the day after tomorrow. Like Delancey and Essex, Dino’s is owned by the two of us, but this business is more purely Brandon’s brainchild than either of the first two. I know I once said Delancey was Brandon’s baby, and then Essex was Brandon’s baby, but no, Dino’s is really, really, really Brandon’s baby. Dino’s – which is pronounced deeno, a shortened version of Brandino, the faux-talian nickname some of our friends have given Brandon – is a pizza tavern, modeled on the kind of place you find along the New Jersey Turnpike. It’s wood…Read more